


I’m Sorry, Dean

by Strength_in_pain



Series: John and his boys [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring John Winchester, Dean and Sam Winchester Fight, Defiant Sam Winchester, Gen, Guilty Sam Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Weechesters, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 23:01:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16376684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strength_in_pain/pseuds/Strength_in_pain
Summary: For as long as Sam could remember, Dean had slept on his stomach. When asked about it, he said he couldn’t fall asleep in any other position. Although, tonight, Sam knew his brother had no choice but to sleep on his stomach and it was all Sam’s fault.Or It’s Sam’s fault Dean is hurting tonight.





	I’m Sorry, Dean

> **Jasper, Arkansas, a sleepy little town. 1993 Dean 14, Sam 10.**

 

“Dean?”

 

_It was too quiet in Mrs. Matthew’s house,_ Sam thought as he hunched forward in the desk chair, looking at his big brother, Dean, who was laying in bed with his back turned away from him. Moonlight flooded through the window on the left side of the room illuminating the side of his face. 

 

Soft green covers snuggled against Dean’s body. He laid in his favorite position, on his belly, and pressed his flushed cheek gently against the cool white sheets below him. For as long as Sam could remember, Dean had slept on his stomach. When asked about it, he said he couldn’t fall asleep in any other position. Although, tonight, Sam knew his brother had no choice but to sleep on his stomach and it was all Sam’s fault. 

 

“Dean?” Sam whispered again. “Dean. I know you’re awake.” 

 

The back of Dean’s head, spiky hair and all, lifted. He cranked his neck towards Sam, wearing a scrunched up, pained look as he made eye contact. 

 

“What do you want, Sam?” He asked, voice gruff. He very carefully turned his body so it would face his little brother. Before he settled on his side, a wince crossed his handsome features. He slipped an arm, the one with the watch, around his pillow and squeezed it close. 

 

The watch sparked a memory and Sam snorted briefly remembering the time he pulled a prank on Dean. During training, Dean had taken off his watch to climb a rope ladder. It was right in the middle of their prank wars, and Sam was fuming from the whole spider-in-your-cereal-thing so he decided to slip his brother’s watch into his jacket pocket. The whole situation was hilarious at first, until Dean started digging in the dirt with his hands, desperate to find it. He was wondering around the yard aimlessly asking ‘where’s my watch?’ As if the squirrels in the tree stole it. Sam stopped laughing when Dean’s breathing sped up. He thought his big brother might have a panic attack so Sam was quick to return the black object his brother was so attached to. The saddest part was Dean hugged Sam and thanked him for finding the watch. It never even crossed his mind that Sam could be cruel enough to take it from him in the first place. 

 

Sam’s smile faltered at the memory. _What kind of brother was he?_ And now, years later, here he was sitting across from Dean feeling guilty as hell because Dean’s back was bruised worse than Rocky Balboa’s face in the fifth Rocky movie and it was his fault. 

 

“I’m so sorry.” Sam said miserably. “I didn’t mean to hurt your back. I really didn’t.”

 

Dean sighed. The sliver chain around his neck was shining in the moonlight. Sam could barely make out the black chord of the amulet he gave Dean last Christmas, but when he squinted he could see it hanging around Dean’s neck. At least his brother still cared about him enough to not take it off. 

 

“It’s okay, Sammy. You don’t have to apologize. I’m not mad at you.” Dean said. But Sam wasn’t buying it. Not after Dean had spent the whole night ignoring him. 

 

Sam shifted in his chair, cringing as he moved. The throb in his rear end was still there, aching as he shifted. Man, his Dad had a strong hand. It hurt, but Sam figured he deserved the pain after what he did to Dean.

 

 “Really? You’re not mad? Not even a little?” 

 

“What? You want me to be or something?” Dean asked with a huff. Sam shook his head and Dean shrugged his shoulders.  “Look. I know it was an accident, okay? And Dad kicked your ass hard enough to make things even. There’s no point in me yelling at you.” He said with another causal shrug. 

 

“But you’re still mad?” Sam asked. 

 

“Did Dad beat your ears? Are you deaf? I said I’m not mad.” Dean’s tone told Sam an entirely different story. 

 

“Good cause I didn’t mean too.” 

 

“I know.”

 

“And Dad let me have it pretty good.”

 

“I know.” Dean said curtly. Then after a small pause, he broke into a big grin. “I mean, I heard you crying from all the way downstairs.” 

 

“Shut up.” Sam laughed. His cheeks were beginning to flush in embarrassment, but he was glad Dean was making fun of him. He’d take the jabs over being ignored any day. He listened to Dean go on about how he acted like a baby. But soon the laughter died down. Once again, they were left in silence. To break the tension, Sam quietly whispered, “Does your back still hurt?”

 

“Not really.” Dean said after a beat. “Dad gave me lots of Advil. Plus he gave me that cream stuff, you know, that kind that makes the skin all numb so you can’t feel nothin’. Works wonders. I can barely feel a thing.”  

 

“Sounds nice.” Sam murmured, “I wish I could have some for my butt.” He snagged his hand down the back of his pants to reposition the ice-pack he had there. 

 

“You okay?” Dean asked, quirking an eyebrow. It was an honest question, not the snarky kind that Dean gives when he’s angry, but the protective big brother kind he asks when he’s really worried. 

 

“Yeah.” Sam whispered. “‘M just sore.” 

 

“I tried to stop him, you know.” Dean said softly, much different from his tone in the beginning of their conversation. “I told him not to hit you.” 

 

“I know.” Sam said. He had heard Dean bargaining with Dad not to go through with it. But that only made Sam feel worse. “But I deserved it.” 

 

“‘S ok Sammy. You didn’t really. I was being a dick.” Dean reassured. 

 

“Dad says we might have to take you to a doctor.”

 

“Nah.” Dean said with a big smile, “I’m tougher than I look. I can handle a little fall.”

 

“Little? Dean, I shoved you down a giant flight of stairs. You’re lucky I didn’t paralyze you.” 

 

“Oh please, Sam. As if you could actually hurt me.” 

 

Sam rolled his eyes, but he leaned over the bed and hugged his brother. “I’m so sorry, Dean.” He said again. This time, Dean returned he hug, wrapping his arms around Sammy’s small shoulders. 

 

“Listen to me. I’m not mad. Stop beating yourself up over this. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” 

 

Sam closed his eyes, pressing his cheek against Dean’s shoulder, trying to erase the memories of earlier that day...

 

                    ______________________

 

“How many times do I have to tell you! Don’t touch my stuff.” Sam screamed as he heatedly chased Dean down the hallway in Mrs. Matthews house. 

 

“And how many times do I have to tell you, don’t take my food.”

 

“It’s not your food, Dean! It’s Mrs. Matthews’s food. She bought it for _us_ , as in plural.” 

 

“No. She bought it for me. I asked for it.” Dean yelled, spinning around to face Sam, halting him in his tracks. “You don’t even like taffy. I haven’t had any in forever because Dad’s been saving money to buy your stupid ass soccer shoes.”

 

“They’re called cleats.”

 

“They’re lame. And they’re expensive.” Dean snapped. 

 

“They’re not that expensive.”

 

“Then he has to buy a ball and new clothes and all this stuff for Sammy. So too bad Dean, no sweets for you this month. And  then Mrs. Matthews offers to finally get me something to eat and you steal it.” Dean screamed. 

 

“You make it sound like your starving.”

 

“I am starving! And you ate my freaking food.”

 

“I ate your candy. Not your dinner, which by the way, you ate three servings.” 

 

Dean nodded with wide overdramatic eyes, “Yeah. STARVING! And our dinner was a freaking slice of bread!” 

 

“But you ripped my homework! That’s the worst thing you could have done.” 

 

“Oh I’m so sorry geek boy. I’m sorry your little paper is ruined. Maybe next time you won’t eat my food.”

 

“I’m going to get a zero now. I can’t turn in a ripped paper. What am I suppose to say? My dog ate my homework?”

 

“No, say, my brother ate my homework because he was starving and I was the little bitch who took all his food.”

 

“Candy! It was candy.”

 

“Candy is food.”

 

“Try eating a salad, or a sandwich.”

 

Dean shook his head, chuckling dangerously. “You think your funny? I would eat a sandwich if we freaking had one. But Dad is a poor bastard and Mrs. Matthew’s ain’t feeding us more than a slice of toast.”

 

“Just don’t touch my stuff.” Sam yelled. 

 

“Don’t eat my candy.” Dean responded, this time giving Sam a little shove. 

 

“Don’t push me.” Sam said, while pushing Dean’s shoulder much harder. He watched Dean stumble back slightly. 

 

“Ok. I won’t.” Dean turned around like he was going to walk away, but in a flash, he spun back around and punched Sam in the stomach. “I’ll punch you instead.”

 

Doubling over, Sam groaned, clutching his stomach. This time, Dean turned to walk away for good, but Sam straightened up and followed him. They were right by the staircase when Sam shoved him. 

 

Looking back, he assumed a part of him knew Dean would fall down the stairs, but also, a part of him was surprised when Dean fell. All he knew is the second he pushed Dean, he regretted it instantly. 

 

The shoved pushed Dean back and he kind of leaped backwards, tumbling down the stairs, each wooden step bounced against his back. The wood dug into his shoulder blades and bumped against his spine as he summersaulted and wiggled down like a caterpillar until he reached the bottom. 

 

Dean blinked a few times, adrenaline kicking in, he was just happy to be alive. He registered Sammy’s panicked crying before he registered any kind of pain. Sam rushed to his side, flying down the stairs, in a matter of seconds. Dean blinked a few times, trying to fight off the pain that was coming at him. He slipped his arm around his sobbing little brother’s shoulder and hugged him. 

 

That’s when Mrs. Matthew’s came running out of the kitchen, gasping. “Oh my lord, are you okay?” 

 

“Shh, Sammy. It’s okay.” Dean shushed, rubbing his back in a comforting way. 

 

“What on earth happened?” Mrs. Matthew’s demanded. 

 

“I pushed him down the stairs. I’m so sorry.” Sam cried. He was clutching Dean’s neck like a lifeline. “Did you hit your head?” Sam asked, blindly touching Dean’s hair. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. Please tell me your head is ok?” 

 

“You pushed your brother down the stairs? What is wrong with you!” Mrs. Matthew’s screamed. Sam flinched back squeezing Dean tighter. 

 

Mrs. Matthews was still glaring at Sam as she squatted next to them. “Oh Dean, honey are you alright?” 

 

“I’m fine.” He bite back. Then he continued to shush Sam. “You’re all right. I’m all right. Shhh.” 

 

“What were you thinking pushing him like that? Do you realize how dangerous falling down the stairs could be? You could have killed him. I can’t believe you could be so stupid.” 

 

“Don’t yell at him!” Dean screamed, “can’t you see he’s upset?” 

 

Finally she calmed down and took it all in. “Are you sure you’re alright, boy?” She didn’t think it was possible for someone to take such a nasty fall and be fine. But Dean was already standing up, smiling, as if he were, in fact, fine. 

 

Dean hummed “mm muh” to answer her question. Then he took Sam by the hand and guided him to his room. 

 

And then Dad came home...

 

Through the thin walls Dean and Sam could hear the conversation between their father and Mrs. Mathews. The lady turned out to be a real snitch. Within seconds, John Winchester was busting through the bedroom door, striding to Dean’s side. He lean’s over his small son, and lifts the bottom of his shirt up to inspect the damage. The veins on John’s neck popped out when he saw the array of bruises lining Dean’s spine. He clenched his jaw, while gently prodding the injuries. When Dean involuntarily yelped, John turned his rage on his youngest. 

 

“Sam!” He threw his hands outward towards Dean’s beaten back, “look what you did.” 

 

“I didn’t mean to.” Sam flailed his arms as he explained what happened, “he kept taking my stuff. I got mad and the stairs were there and I thought so why not? I didn’t think he would get hurt.” 

 

“You didn’t think that pushing your brother down the stairs would hurt?” 

 

Sam wanted to disappear right then. He didn’t respond as John rubbed circles on Dean’s back. “Does it hurt really bad, Ace?” 

 

Dean shook his head. “No sir.”

 

“Looks painful to me. Why don’t you take some Advil and lie down. I’ll bring you a big bag of ice. I want that swelling to go down. If it doesn’t, I’m taking you to the hospital.” 

 

“Dad. I’m fine. honest.” John shook his head. He went over to the duffle bag and fished for a bottle of Advil. 

 

“You do what I tell you, boy.” He said tossing Dean the medicine. 

 

“Doesn’t even hurt that bad.” Dean mumbled. He popped two pills in his mouth and swallowed. John proceeded to put a numbing cream on his back, but Dean was constantly moving away from him. 

 

“Hold still.” John ordered. Dean tried, but his back was throbbing. He honestly looked like he was about to cry, but he held onto his tough facade for his family. No need to upset Sammy any further. 

 

Once Dean was laying on bed with ice on his back, John ordered Sam downstairs. 

 

“Dad.” Dean called, “I was the one bugging him in the first place. Please just forget about it.” 

 

“Go to sleep, kid. Your brother and I need to chat.”

 

It hurt Sam to know that Dean gave up so easily. Normally his brother would argue a few more times to try and wiggle him out of an ass-beating, but Dean didn’t try again. He  just laid back under the green-covers, and turned away from Sam. 

 

John sat on the living room couch with Sam between his legs. “Why?” He asked. 

 

“I told you why. He kept taking my stuff. It’s not fair. He should be in trouble for taking my things, not me. All I did was eat his stupid candy.”

 

“Sammy, you pushed him down the stairs.” John scolded. “I know you know how wrong that was. No matter how angry you are with your brother you can’t hurt him.”

 

“He hurts me! He punched me in the stomach. Where’s his spanking?”

 

“I think the bruises back serves as enough punishment for now. But in the future, just tell me and I’ll deal with it. That way we won’t have to worry about paralysis or death, ok?”

 

Sam rolled his eyes, “Yeah. If your here to deal with it.”

 

“What was that?” John asked, swatting Sam’s Jean-clad butt. 

 

He jumped in surprise stomping his foot in frustration. “Half the time your not here Dad! You leave me alone with Dean most of the time and he’s annoying! He picks on me and I can’t him stop him cause he’s bigger. It’s not fair.” 

 

John’s mouth had fallen open during Sam’s rambling. “Seriously? Your brother has never once hurt you, has he?”

 

“He punches me.” 

 

“Hard? Does he leave bruises?”

 

“No.” Sam whispered. 

 

John sighed. “Look. I’ll talk with Dean. He shouldn’t take advantage of you. Just because he’s bigger than you doesn’t mean he should pick on you. But you better not take advantage of him, either. Because from what I saw tonight - You were very mean to him. And the fact that you want him to be punished after you pushed him down the stairs speaks volumes.” John said. “Now you are going to get spanked and afterwards you are going to apologize to your brother. Understand?” 

 

“That’s not fair!” Sam cried out angrily. Deep down he does feel guilty and he knows he deserves to be punished, but damn did he hate John’s power. He felt like his father always had the upper hand. He always took Dean’s side. He was trying to control everything Sam wants to do. 

 

John yanked him over his knees pissed enough to continue to lecture Sam as he faced the carpet. 

 

“What do you mean it’s not fair? If Dean pushed you down the stairs, he’d be in the same position.” 

 

“Not true.” Sam screamed, “because Dean does everything you tell him to do. He’s perfect.” 

 

John raised his hand before quickly bringing it down on Sam’s upturned bottom. But Sam wasn’t having it. He fought with all his might to escape John’s grasp. John held him down and landed several more swats. 

 

“Let me go!” Sam spat trying to hit John so he would let him go. He whacked the back of his Father’s legs with all of his might. Bad idea. John stood Sam up in between his legs and grabbed his wrists. 

 

“Enough!” He shouted. Sam’s bottom lip started to tremble. It was one thing to be spanked, but yelled at? To be yelled at in John Winchesters military voice was terrifying. Sam couldn’t stand that voice. It sent shivers down his spine, goosebumps on his arms and made his stomach drop. 

 

His big hazel-green eyes welled up with tears. He was hoping his Dad would just give up and tell him to go to bed or something, but John was still fuming. 

 

“Now you’re going to stop this fit of yours or we will do this again tomorrow night. And as for your brother being perfect. You know that’s not true. If he was perfect you wouldn’t have wanted to shove him down the stairs. If he was perfect I wouldn’t have had to beat his ass before. And we both know damn well that I have. Now this tantrum of yours just shows me one thing. Dean has been spoiling your ass, so were gonna fix that right now. So stop being a brat and take what you earned.” Pouting, Sam went to lay over John’s lap, but he was stopped. 

 

“Nuh uh, Jeans down.” John said as he tugged at the loops of them. 

 

“Da-“

 

“You lost your privilege of keeping them. You wanted to throw a tantrum and hit me, so now we’re doing this the hard way.”

 

Sam slid his pants off red-faced before quickly going back over his Dad’s lap. He prayed he wouldn’t have to take his boxers off. He didn’t. John did that for him. 

 

All Sam could think about was how humiliated he was in this situation. The pain wasn’t bad, his father hadn’t struck him very hard, but he still wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out. Thank God Dean was staying in his room or Sam would surely die of embarrassment. He supposed some siblings would purposely listen to a punishment with satisfaction, especially if they think it’s justice. He supposed Dean could come out of his room and make fun of him. Like that one time Dean was getting it and Sam purposefully stayed in the kitchen just to laugh at his brother’s discomfort. He made fun of Dean for crying, mocked him ruthlessly for getting himself in that position. He was a real jerk, but Dean was a bigger jerk that day. In Sam’s mind, he totally deserved to be made fun of. However, now that the roles were reversed, Sam was thankful Dean wasn’t resorting to the same dirty tactics. Then again, Dean would never hurt him like that. He was the definition of the perfect older brother. 

 

John tried to harden his smacks but hitting his child was never something he could do easily, especially the baby of the family. No matter how much Sam pissed him off, the thought of striking his child made him feel incredibly guilty. But Sam was spoiled and he needs to learn that he can’t get his way all the time. John let him do too much of that already. Maybe that’s the problem. He spoiled Sam because he’s the baby and he gave him too much freedom and now Sam thinks he can do whatever he wants. Well John was going to fix that. 

 

He hardened his heart, and made the smacks twice as hard. Sam sucked in a sharp breath. “Ow.” he complained. When four more smacks of the same velocity struck, his eyes glazed over with tears. Sam was closer to Dean than his father and that’s all he wanted right then. To be as far away from John as possible and wrapped up tightly in Dean’s arms. John finished up with a few more sharp swats which caused Sam to cry out. Then, he put Sam’s boxers in place, and helped the boy up. 

 

“Look Sam. I’m sorry I had to do that, but you need to put a lid on that temper of yours. Someday you could really hurt someone if you act out of anger. You need to sit down and cool off before doing anything. If you were fighting with Dean, you should have walked away and cooled off.” 

 

“Whatever.” Sam muttered. “I don’t usually fight with Dean anyway.” 

 

“I know. But I’m talking about anyone. Son, you can’t go through life with a temper like that.”

 

“You do.” Sam growled. 

 

John frowned. “I avoid fights, unless I don’t have a choice. I’m not including monsters here. That’s a different story. I will happily advise you to take your anger out on a monster. But when it comes to people -“

 

“I get it, Dad. I’ll cool off. Can I please go.”

 

“Are you going to apologize to Dean?” 

 

“That’s who I’m trying to go to.” Sam said, stumbling out of his father’s grip. 

 

                __________________________

 

“Sammy?” 

 

Sam opened his eyes and leaned back. Dean’s soft green eyes were searching his. “Did you hear me? I said stop beating yourself up over this. Everything’s fine.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you.” Sam laughed. He dove back into his brother’s arms, curling his fingers into Dean’s shoulder blades. Glancing down, Sam slowly lifted Dean’s shirt and took a peak at his back. He cringed at the sight. 

 

“Stop. I’m fine.” Dean scolded, pushing Sam’s hands away. 

 

“You should see a doctor.” 

 

“Like I said, bitch. You can’t hurt me. I don’t break that easy so get over it.” 

 

Sam glanced aimlessly out the window, at the moonlight. He grabbed Dean’s amulet that was hanging around his neck and squeezed it. 

 

“No matter what, You’re always gonna be my favorite brother okay?” 

 

Dean pushed Sam gently. “I’m your only brother.” 

 

“True. But if I had another one, he wouldn’t be as cool as you.” 

 

“Thanks Sammy, but I think these chick-flick moments are turning you into a sister instead of a brother.” 

 

Sam didn’t have time to retaliate because the bedroom door creaked open and John poked his head through. 

 

“Sam. It’s late, get in bed.” John ordered. And Sam had no intentions of disobeying Dad. Not when his butt was still burning from the palm of his hand. “Leave your brother alone. He’s in pain.” John said again. He walked in the room, and went over to Dean while Sam hopped in his own bed. 

 

“How ya doing champ?” 

 

“Good. Can barely feel a thing. I guess that cream stuff really did the trick.” 

 

“Don’t lie, kid. It doesn’t work on me.” John said lifting his shirt. “Why did you take the ice off?”

 

“See, the ice hurt.” Dean said, “and I’m not afraid to admit that.” 

 

John chuckled. “Yeah well, I want you to leave it on. I need the swelling to go down.” 

 

“Why?” he whined like a toddler. Something only Dean did when Dad was around. 

 

“Because I want to be sure that you don’t have any serious damage. You need to tell me if you have blood in your urine or if you have weakness in your legs.”

 

“Dad!” he screeched, face flushing a million shade of red. 

 

John ruffled his slightly spiky hair and kissed his forehead. “Go to sleep.” 

 

He went over to Sam’s bed next and pulled the comforter over his shoulders. “You know I still love you right?” 

 

Dean and Sam both stared at John with wide-eyes. It was probably the first time since one of them was hospitalized that John had said the ‘L’ word. 

 

Sam nodded. “I love you too. I didn’t mean to hurt him, Dad. I’m really sorry.” 

 

“Shhh. I know. I know. Go to sleep now, Sammy.” John said, kissing his forehead. “Tomorrow will be better.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! I hope you enjoyed another small snapshot of their lives. 
> 
> I’m creating a Halloween special for the John and his boys series, so hopefully i’ll have it ready by the 31st. :) :)


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